


i fought the war (but the war won)

by marshie_marshmallow



Series: the crimson flower blooms [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 00:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshie_marshmallow/pseuds/marshie_marshmallow
Summary: Felix abandoned his country and killed people he'd once held dear. In the aftermath of war, his sins catch up to him and he's left wondering if any of it was worth it.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Bernadetta von Varley
Series: the crimson flower blooms [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549636
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54





	i fought the war (but the war won)

**Author's Note:**

> heyo! yeah, the ashe fic wasn't entirely standalone. title this time is from Monster Hospital by Metric.
> 
> anyway, tw for moments of suicidal ideation (ie wishing for death but not actively seeking it out) and slight dehumanization (in the same vein as felix's canonical comments about dimitri but now they're directed at himself).

**Harpstring Moon, 1186**

“ _So, my foolish son... You took it upon yourself to leave your family behind.”_

“ _Hey, Felix. Remember when we were kids and we made a promise about dying together?”_

“ _You killed Rodrigue... Your own father, Felix.”_

Felix woke up with a start, breathing heavily. Slowly, he brought his hands up in front of his eyes, almost certain they'd be coated in blood. The blood of his father. The blood of his friends.

They were clean, of course. The war was over. There was no Faerghus or Leicester anymore. Only the Adrestian Empire.

Outside the window, the sky was only just barely beginning to lighten. The sun hadn't even poked out from the horizon yet. Only the night patrols were still up and he didn't have any duties to attend to, as he was still being forced to recuperate from the final battle.

Still, he couldn't go back to sleep, so he threw off the covers and stood up. His legs and feet were wrapped in bandages, as was the case with most who had participated in the Battle of Fhirdiad. Standing amongst flames for a long time tended to cause rather severe burn wounds, after all. He was supposed to avoid strenuous activity because of it but his muscles itched to hold a sword. He needed to at _least_ train, even if there were no living opponents to throw himself against.

He threw on clothes and left for the training grounds. The only living thing there was one of the cats, which meant he could train in peace. He grabbed one of the swords and immediately set to work beating one of the dummies into oblivion.

The nice thing about it was that he was able to empty his mind of any bothersome thoughts. There was a part of him that was aware of how horrible it was that he was only able to clear his mind so completely during battle. The other part of him didn't care.

His body burned and his feet ached with every swing of the sword. Once Ingrid found out about him doing this – and not for the first time, either – he'd get another lecture about taking care of himself, which he'd inevitably ignore. After all, it was only a matter of time before he burned that bridge too. Destroying things was all he was good for.

Relationships, countries, people...

He realized now how much of a hypocrite he had been, criticizing the boar. They were the same type of bloodthirsty beast. Dimitri had just awoken to it sooner.

The morning bell broke him out of his violent reverie. He had been so focused on destroying the training dummy, which was now in tatters, that he hadn't even noticed it getting light around him. He contemplated ignoring it but he had to eat to fuel his training.

He would just eat quickly and go back to training.

* * *

The dining hall was busy as always but, having already been up, he was one of the first in line for breakfast. Once he had his food, he retreated to one of the tables in the corner, where people didn't tend to go.

He should be starving after so much exercise and he was but he still found it hard to eat. Part of it was simply that food tended to taste like ash in his mouth lately. The other part was that, now that he'd stopped, his muscles didn't want to do anything. His entire body ached and that was his own fault.

“Something wrong, Felix?”

He blinked and looked up.

“Oh. Bernadetta.” The archer was probably one of the people in the garrison that he was most comfortable around. Even more so than Ingrid, sometimes. “I'm... fine.”

She pursed her lips in thought, then frowned at him. “You've been disobeying the healers' orders again, haven't you?”

He decided not to answer that.

She set her plate down across from him before sitting. Were it anybody else, he likely would have told them to go away and mind their own business, though using much less polite terms. Not to Bernadetta, though. Somehow, he never minded her company.

They had never quantified what exactly they had between them. There was no time for such things in war. Still, the feelings had for her were far different than anything else he felt.

“You know, sooner or later, Professor Manuela is gonna tie you to one of the infirmary beds so you'll stop doing this,” she said.

“Probably.” He didn't look forward to the day when his bedrest was enforced through more direct means. It meant he'd have nothing do but be alone with his thoughts and nightmares. “How are your injuries?”

“They're... healing. I took some pretty nasty blows from some of those dolls. Don't change the subject. You remember what you were told.”

Right. The last time Dorothea and Ingrid had dragged him to the infirmary after he collapsed training. He had been informed that he could cause himself permanent injury if he didn't stop being so reckless and ignoring healers' orders.

That had been about three days prior.

“Your food will get cold if you don't eat,” he said.

“Yours will too.”

She had a point there. As much as his arm burned from the movement, he forced himself to eat. She seemed pleased with this course of action, so he fought his body until the plate was clear.

She smiled once he was done. “You're not going back to the training grounds.”

He wanted to protest that she couldn't stop him but knew there was no point. He would barely be able to lift the sword in his current state. Instead, he allowed Bernadetta to help him up from his seat and slowly guide him back to his room. She sat next to the bed and chattered while he fell back into a fitful sleep.

* * *

**Horsebow Moon, 1184**

“That was awful,” Bernadetta muttered as Felix shut and locked the door behind them. “I mean, I was excited at the idea of throwing a birthday party for Petra but I didn't expect it to be so _big_.”

“I don't think Petra was fond of it, either,” he said. “Though I'll admit that watching Dorothea lecture her and Ashe for running off was...”

“Kinda funny, yeah.” She giggled. “Anyway, I've been getting a lot better with people and social situations but that was just...”

“Annoying.”

“I guess that's one word for it. Hey, are you sure you don't mind being in here?”

“I think I'm the one who should be asking if you don't mind _me_ being in here.” He gestured. “This is your room, after all.”

“Hm...” She plopped down on the side of her bed. “I don't usually let people in my room but I think I like having you in here. For one thing, you know what it's like to not want to be around people.”

True. The only reason he'd been at that party was because he was forced to attend by Dorothea and also the emperor herself.

“You know, people might get the wrong idea about what the two of us are doing in here,” he said, pulling out her desk chair and sitting down.

“What do you...” She trailed off before her face turned bright red. “Wait, you think that people are gonna think that we- that we're-”

“It's a possibility.”

She covered her face with her hands and made a squealing noise. “Oh, that's just terrible to think about...” she muttered.

“What? The concept of sleeping with me or that people might talk about it?”

She puffed out her cheeks. “Don't tease me! That people might talk about it, of course! But now I've got the weird mental image of the two us... doing that. Ugh, why'd you have to bring it up?”

He waved a hand. “Come on. A little gossip won't kill anyone. We don't even know for sure that anyone knows I'm in here with you.”

“I... guess. It's just... I mean, we're just friends. I don't want anyone to think that we're, um, a _thing_.” She fell back to lie on the bed. “Not that I think you'd be a bad boyfriend. It's just- Cause we're in the middle of a war and I don't really want to be thinking about-”

“Okay, maybe I shouldn't have brought this up. I was just trying to make a joke.”

She sat back up, a fake look of shock on her face. “ _You_? Joking? The world must be coming to an end!”

“Hey!”

She giggled at the expression on his face for a couple of seconds before calming down. “Um... Sorry. I guess it's kinda boring in here for anyone who isn't me. I don't have a lot to talk about either.”

“That's fine. We don't have to talk.”

“Don't have to... Oh! I guess not.” The idea of enjoying each other's company while not directly interacting was apparently enticing, as she began rummaging around in a basket by the bed to produce a half-finished needlework project. “You can, um... Oh! You can read one of my books if you want! I mean, the books that aren't... written by me. You'll be able to tell which ones those are.”

“What? Don't want me reading your work?”

“It's just... I've only ever let one person read my manuscripts.”

“Who was that?”

She paused. “Um... No one important! Anyway, just, um... don't read them!”

He frowned, unable to shake the feeling that she was hiding something. “Alright. I'd kind of like to read your writing at some point, though.”

“Maybe someday but, um, not right now!”

He shrugged and stood up to peruse the bookshelf. She sighed in contentment now that the actual 'interaction' part was seemingly over and went right back to her needlework. She looked so peaceful when doing it, more than Felix had ever seen her.

It was nice.

* * *

**Garland Moon, 1186**

Ingrid had, with the help of Edelgard, ensured Felix was permanently barred entry from the training grounds unless he had supervision. Since there were guards during daylight – who had specific orders to make sure he didn't enter – and the doors were now always locked tight at night, this left him with no choice but cease training.

He had gotten into a fight with Ingrid over that. He was twenty-three, after all. He didn't need her treating him like a child.

“Well then, maybe you should stop acting like one,” she had said. “This is the same sort of behavior as every time you got sick when you were a kid. Always trying to ignore matters relating to your own health.”

He had stormed off after that and had refused to speak to her ever since. She had no right to bring up their childhood. Not when he had made sure the past was dead and buried.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius, the surly second son and reluctant heir of House Fraldarius, had died less than two weeks after his eighteenth birthday. His place in the world was taken by just... Felix.

Felix, the living sword. Felix, the Empire's rabid dog who would tear apart anyone in his way, viciously and gleefully. Felix, whose hands were stained with the blood of friends and family.

Ingrid couldn't understand. Against all odds, she had retained her humanity. Had even gained new resolve in chasing this world of Edelgard's, after seeing the crimes both Kingdom and Church were willing to commit. Meanwhile, all Felix could think about was the fact that those crimes were only committed after the Empire pushed them to the brink.

With his avenue of release taken from him, he had nothing to chase away the thoughts that plagued him. His nightmares grew worse, chasing him into daylight hours.

He marched into Edelgard's office one day, unafraid of any sort of consequences, and demanded that she let him go out and _do something_. There were still battles to be fought, cleaning up the aftermath of war. He was the only member of the Black Eagle Strike Force – the only person who had participated in the fight against the Immaculate One – that was still being confined to Garreg Mach.

“Yes,” she had replied. “Because you kept sabotaging your own recovery process. As such, you still haven't fully healed. It's a testament to Manuela's skill as a physician that you didn't end up permanently damaging anything. Suffice to say, I will not be honoring your request, no matter how much you try to convince me to.”

He had stormed out of the office after that, resisting the urge to say or do something that would have him spending the night in a prison cell. He had known the discussion would be futile. Edelgard wasn't known to be the compromising type or the war might have gone much differently. In that version of reality, Felix might still have some humanity left in him.

* * *

An annoying rapping sound woke him up from his latest nightmare.

He'd been dreaming of his own execution, not for the first time. Standing on the gallows in Fhirdiad while his crimes were listed off to a crowd of faceless people by the animated bodies of friends and family. The city had still been on fire, even as Dimitri's corpse called for his death. In his dream, Felix had sobbed out apologies, though he wouldn't dare to ask for forgiveness. He knew he would never earn such a thing.

“Felix? Are you okay?”

 _Fuck._ Ashe was outside his room. He must have been knocking on the door, which would explain the noise.

Felix bolted up from the bed and ripped the door open. “The hell do you want?”

Ashe was in his nightclothes and the moon was high in the sky, illuminating the area. Must have been around midnight.

“I could... hear you,” Ashe answered. “From my room.”

Not surprising, given their room placements. It almost made Felix wish he had kept his old dormitory from their school days, rather than moving into... whoever's dorm this had once been.

“And?” He didn't feel like having a heart-to-heart about the fact that he screamed in his sleep. “Aren't you leaving soon? I thought you were gonna go to Brigid with Petra?”

“Not until the end of the week. Not that that has anything to do with what I said.”

“Don't bother with me. If I'm disturbing your sleep or something just...” Ugh, he didn't have a way to finish that. His head was pounding. “Block your ears with something and leave _me_ alone. Since you're gonna be out of the Empire soon enough and all.”

He moved to close the door, but Ashe jammed his foot in the way. Felix briefly contemplated just slamming the door on it anyway and letting Ashe deal with the consequences of his own actions. Instead, he reopened it just a crack.

“Go. Away.”

“Felix, this is important. If you're having nightmares or anything-”

“Then I'll deal with them _myself_ . I'm not some _little kid_ that needs others to comfort him when he has a bad dream.” Not anymore.

“You don't look so good, Felix.”

“I've got a bad headache,” he lied. “ _You're_ not helping with it.”

“I- Okay. Fine. I'll... leave you alone.”

Ashe pulled his foot from the doorway and Felix wasted no time closing it in his face.

The likelihood of them speaking to each other again before Ashe left was low. Somehow, Felix didn't care.

* * *

**Lone Moon, 1180**

Felix watched as Edelgard poured more sugar in her tea.

Had he not watched her brew it and take a sip herself, he might have been suspicious of her intentions in inviting him up here. Or rather, he _had_ been suspicious but was fairly certain now that the tea wasn't drugged, unless the sugar was supposed to be a counteragent. He knew of nothing, drug or poison, that was counteracted by sugar, though, and there hadn't been any opportunities for her to add anything else.

“Are you going to drink?” she asked. “Or are you simply going to let it cool while you stare at me?”

He lowered his gaze and slowly raised the cup to his lips.

Bergamot. That was Sylvain's favorite.

“I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here,” she continued, giving a small gesture to indicate the room. As emperor, her own chambers and office were in the small fort of the encampment, rather than a tent, like everyone else.

He set the cup down. “Well, I had thought you might be trying to trap me in one place. Knock me out, perhaps, and take me as a preemptive prisoner of war. I would doubtless be a valuable hostage against the Kingdom.”

She nodded. “True. You would be. The heir to the most powerful noble house in Faerghus would be... well, it could prove to be quite useful in crippling their forces if House Fraldarius found themselves unwilling to make any moves against the Empire. However, I'm not in the practice of taking my own allies hostage. As you have decided to join me, you can be counted among that list.”

He didn't reply, silently signaling for her to continue.

“Which is what I wanted to discuss. Why _you_ , of all people, chose to join me.”

“If you don't like my answer, are you then going to throw me in a prison cell?”

“You seem oddly hung up on this concept. No, I'm not saying I have to like your answer. I just wish to understand it. Why join the Empire?”

“Because I wanted to.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You're the next Duke Fraldarius. It's a well-known fact that House Fraldarius is right-hand to House Blaiddyd.”

“And maybe I don't _want_ that for myself!” he snapped. “Maybe every other Fraldarius was happy settling into their role in life but I have _no_ desire to serve the boar!”

“Why do you call him that?”

“What?”

“Dimitri.” She set a hand down on the table and formed the other into a fist, upon which she rested her chin. “Why do you call him that?”

He scowled. “Because he's an animal. He puts up a good show but I've seen his true face. A bloodthirsty beast, killing viciously and without remorse. He _revels_ in bloodshed, as much as he might like to pretend otherwise.”

Her brow furrowed. “I see. And you _are_ aware, of course, that I'm leading a war which will no doubt kill many more than a single man could ever slaughter?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again as he struggled to think of a response to that. “You don't relish in it,” he finally said.

“Hm.” She stared him dead-on as she took a long sip of her tea, forcing him to turn his gaze to the table in order to avoid looking her in the eye.

“Anyway...” he continued. “I don't want to be the boar's vassal. I have to make my own way in life.”

“And your family? What about them?”

He scoffed. “I'm better off without my old man. Believe me, leaving House Fraldarius behind means nothing to me. I'm free of my father and the idiotic expectations placed on my shoulders.”

She ran a fingertip around the rim of her teacup. “I see. So you've allied yourself with the Empire purely as a way of running away from your family and the expectations that come with being a Fraldarius.”

Well, she didn't have to be so blunt about it. “Is that a problem? I'm sorry if you specifically wanted me to be after this 'better world' you're trying to create or something. I really couldn't give a shit about that right now.”

She shook her head. “I simply wanted to understand your reasoning. Certainly, not every soldier is fighting for my own ideals specifically.”

“Whatever. Are we done here?”

“Well, if you're not going to finish your tea, then yes.”

He scowled and downed the rest of his drink, which had at least cooled enough to not burn his mouth, before standing up and leaving. He didn't even offer a farewell or a wave as he walked out the door.

* * *

**Garland Moon, 1186**

“ _It's a father's duty to settle his child's failures. Felix... you must die, here and now!”_

Felix's hands shook as he covered the Aegis Shield with a sheet and shoved it in the back of his wardrobe again. It had been sitting there since the end of the war, after he first woke up from a nightmare. Every time he tried to pull it out to even look at it, he was reminded sharply of his own sins.

_Traitor._

The shield had saved his life, back in Arianrhod, from his own father's magic. As terrifying as Rodrigue was with a lance, his skill with magic was even worse. Were it not for the enchanted shield's protection, Felix would not have survived.

_Murderer._

Felix had known all along that his chosen path meant the death of a Fraldarius. Either himself or Rodrigue. In the end, it had been Rodrigue. Both his father and brother were in another place now. That place, wherever it was, wasn't where Felix was going to end up.

_Monster._

The Fraldarius knights had been far from pleased to see their lord slaughtered by his own son's hand. The traitorous child of the house they served proudly, repaying his father's years of raising him with death. Helping to destroy the country that his brother had died for.

_Kinslayer._

Now, only four moons later, Felix couldn't even remember which of them had attacked the other first. Despite that, he could quite clearly recall his father's blood on his hands, see in his mind the expression on Rodrigue's face as Felix drove a sword through his chest. He could hear, over and over again, the sound his father's body made as it hit the ground.

“ _I said I'd cut down anyone who stood in my way. Even my father. Even my friends.”_

Felix never knew his mother. She had died before he was even two years old. She had always been of poor health, it seemed, and the harsh Faerghus winters had eventually proved too much.

There weren't any portraits of her around Castle Fraldarius, so his only reference point for her appearance was that they had shared an eye color. That and she was, apparently, beautiful. People had always commented on that, back before Felix was _Felix_. Back in the earliest years of his life, when House Fraldarius was thought to have a son and a daughter, rather than two sons.

For as long as he could remember, the only family he had was his father, his brother, and, occasionally, his uncle, Aldric. Glenn had died ten years prior, saving a prince who was now six feet under anyway. Rodrigue died at Arianrhod, betrayed and killed by the son that still drew breath, for the sake of someone else's dream. Aldric, from what he understood, had been killed in the subjugation of Fraldarius territory following Rodrigue's death.

Mother, father, brother, and uncle. All dead. That made Felix the last living member of House Fraldarius, save for maybe Aldric's husband, and he only survived by way of leaving it behind to join an enemy nation. Except he wasn't even of House Fraldarius anymore. He had been disowned and his existence struck from family records.

He had carved out his path in life, paved it with blood, only to find a dead end. He had to question what he ever thought would have been waiting for him when everything was over, besides misery.

* * *

“Have you ever thought about what you'll do when you leave the garrison?” Bernadetta asked as she pulled her needle through fabric. Felix wasn't sure what she was embroidering handkerchiefs for but it wasn't his concern.

“Have you?” he countered. He was seated on the desk chair, content to watch her hands work.

“I... Well, Ferdinand says it's gonna take some time to make all the changes Edelgard wants to. Apparently, _someone_ has to govern Varley territory if we don't want anarchy to erupt in the meantime. She said she would let me take over if I want.”

He grunted. “Thought you didn't want to return home.”

“Not as long as my father was there, no. Now that he's gone, it's not really a problem.”

Felix did recall the announcement of the former Count Varley's sudden death sometime before the professor's return. Unconfirmed reports had placed Hubert as making an unannounced visit to the Varley manor and leaving right around the time the man had developed a sudden, severe illness. It was generally and aggressively agreed that these two events were completely unrelated to each other.

“On the other hand,” she continued, “I'd kind of like to travel. All over the world, if I could. I know it's not really realistic but... I think I'm tired of being a recluse.”

“Maybe Edelgard would let you aid in the reconstruction efforts by traveling Fodlan. She can't make all the necessary journeys herself.” He honestly didn't care what Edelgard did or did not need but he did care about Bernadetta's happiness.

“Oh, that's true! I haven't decided yet, though. I mean, even Edelgard hasn't returned to Enbarr yet. I guess it's easier for her to be in the actual center of Fodlan right now.”

“I suppose.”

Bernadetta tied a knot in her thread and clipped it before reaching for a different spool, this one a deep blue not unlike his hair. “Hey, you didn't answer my question. What are _you_ going to do?”

“I... don't know. The entire war, I fought with the intention that I'd do whatever I wanted with my life when it was over and now... I don't actually _know_ what I want to do with my life.”

“I think Edelgard would be open to letting you be in charge of the Fraldarius territory if-”

“No.” His hand curled into a fist. “I'm not- I'm not a Fraldarius. Not anymore. I just have their Crest and even _that's_ going to mean nothing before too long anyway. Besides, my presence alone would probably start a revolt.”

“Oh. I was just throwing it out there. I kind of didn't like the idea of you being so far away, anyway. I guess you could... stay with the army? Take on a more permanent position?”

Felix leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Edelgard would have to let me go out on missions again for that.”

“Huh. Yeah, she would. I mean, she'll probably let you go out at some point, right? Once you're, like, totally and _completely_ healed. Undeniably.”

“I'm not sure.” He shook his head. “I don't know if... If I want to stay with the Imperial Army anyway.”

It was working for the Empire that had turned him into a monster, after all.

“Guess you could retire. You've got all those savings from your pay. Maybe you could buy a house somewhere or something? You could come live in Enbarr!”

“I don't... know. I'll think about it.”

He knew what she was hoping for. He knew it all too well. Were he a stronger man, he would cut himself off from her entirely. It would be better in the long run for her to not involve herself with him, lest he end up destroying her too.

But, alas, he was too weak to remove himself from the one person that gave him anything close to peace anymore and too weak to break her heart, even for her own good.

* * *

**Great Tree Moon, 1185**

“What's this?” Felix stared at the brown paper-wrapped package Bernadetta had handed him. They were standing outside the cathedral, in the shaded area underneath the Goddess Tower. It was late into the month and he had just recently returned to the garrison.

Bernadetta flushed bright red. “It's, um, smoked meat but... not the kind you buy from the merchant. I kinda made it myself. Petra's been teaching me to hunt better and I got some nice spices and I really, really thought you'd like it-”

He held up a hand for her to stop “I'm sure it's fantastic. So, were you just experimenting and decided I should try it or-”

“It's for your birthday!”

He blinked. “My birthday was two months ago.”

“Yeah, but you weren't at the garrison back then! You only got back, like, three days ago and I was thinking about how awful your birthday must have been. Especially with all that rain back during Pegasus Moon...”

“Well, I won't say the encampment was fun to be in at the time. But that's just how it is. The army can't always adjust around people's birthdays.”

“I know but... I wanted to do something for you anyway!”

“Well, since you've already gone through the trouble... Thank you. I mean that.”

She beamed at him. “But, uh, you don't have to eat it right now or anything. I mean, it's dried, so it'll keep for a while.”

He glanced down at the package again, before looking back up at her. “You know, I didn't get you anything for your birthday...”

“That's fine! I mean, my birthday was even longer ago than yours, so-”

“It's kind of unfair, though. You put more effort in than I do.”

“Cause I like you.” She flushed pink. “Um! As a friend! You know! I'm not making this weird or anything, am I?”

“Well, it wasn't weird until just now.”

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. “Way to go, Bernie. Now he thinks you've got a thing for him or something.”

“Um...” He was unsure how to respond to that.

“Oh... Just forget I said anything!” Bernadetta said, bolting off into the cathedral and disturbing several people on her way.

Felix decided it would be best to give her time to calm down. She'd realize on her own how ridiculous she was being.

* * *

**Blue Sea Moon, 1186**

Edelgard looked unamused as Felix glowered at her. The two were in what was once Seteth's office, as it was more suited to the kind of paperwork she was doing than the audience chamber.

“If you're here to ask me to send you out on a mission, the answer is already no.” She shuffled the papers on her desk and pulled out a new sheet.

His scowl deepened. “Then at least let me use the training grounds.”

“No.”

“Damn it, Edelgard. What's the point in keeping me locked up in here?”

“The point is for you to not die by overexerting yourself.”

“I haven't healed enough for you? I've spent weeks now not doing _anything_.”

If the nightmares got any worse or the phantoms in the corner of his eye started staying even longer, he was going to go mad. Maybe he already had, to an extent. He needed to chase them away. Needed to feel his blade cutting into _something_.

“Well, if you're desperate for something to do, there's plenty of work that needs to be done here around the garrison.”

He slammed his hands down on the desk, harder than necessary. She gave him a dry look as she set her hand on the inkpot to prevent it from tipping over.

“You know, you're not actually helping your case by losing control of your emotions like this. And I won't be intimidated if that's what you're going for.”

“I just... have to...” He swallowed back a lump in his throat. “I'm a warrior. Isn't a waste to keep me locked away like this?”

“It would also be a waste for you to die a pointless death.”

Felix was beginning to think every death that occurred in the course of her whole war was pointless. He'd not say that to her face, of course, but he had to wonder if all this would _really_ be worth it in the end, regardless of whatever new world she crafted from the old ones ashes. It seemed to him like all the war had served to accomplish was turning thousands of people into killers and many, many more into corpses.

“If you're not going to make use of me as a soldier... Then what's the point in me still being here?”

“That's for you to decide. You joined me so you'd have the freedom to decide your own path in life. What do you want to make of your life, Felix?”

He shook his head. “There's nothing for me to make of it. All I'm good for is fighting.”

“That alone is something you could do with your life if you would simply stop being so reckless about it.” She leaned forward. “You fight as if you're trying to get yourself killed but I know how skilled you are. If you wouldn't be so rash, you could achieve great rank among the Imperial-”

“Maybe I don't want to achieve rank in your fucking army! Maybe I just want to fight!”

She sighed. “Why do you insist on throwing away your life and talent like this?”

_Because you turned me into a monster. You and your fucking war._

“If I leave this army, you can't keep me here anymore,” he said, staring down at his feet.

“And where would you go?”

“Anywhere. There's plenty of work for mercenaries out there. I don't have to stay here.” He could fight to his heart's content and die a bloody death on the battlefield, same as those he'd slaughtered.

“So that's it, then? You're determined to get yourself killed?”

“What's it matter to you if I live or die anyway?” _I'd just be another casualty of the war._

“Ingrid would mourn the loss, you know. She's made it quite clear to me how much she wishes for you to speak to her again.”

“I don't give a damn about Ingrid.” He couldn't. Not when she found that she _liked_ the place her path had led to, while he was left to wallow in guilt and self-loathing.

Edelgard looked displeased at that. “... You've changed.”

“War does that to people.” A cold grin crept onto his face. “I never should have left Faerghus.”

“You would have preferred to die throwing yourself against the Imperial army?”

“At least then I wouldn't have consigned myself to hell.” He turned on his heel. “Goodbye, _Your Majesty._ ”

He gave no opportunity for a response before walking out, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

“ _Well, seems we're about to kill each other.”_

“ _I see. That was all I needed to hear to finally work up the resolve to kill you.”_

There had been a time, around ten years prior, that it had been Felix-and-Dimitri-and-Sylvain-and-Ingrid. When Felix let his tears flow freely. When Dimitri smiled all the time and let Felix cling to his arm. When Sylvain would flaunt his age over the others as a means of authority. When Ingrid was someday going to be his sister-in-law.

It was hard to think of now. Everything had fallen apart after the Tragedy of Duscur. Felix hardened his heart. Dimitri's smiles became fake. Sylvain, the only one not directly affected, was suddenly trying to hold them together as best he could. Ingrid threw herself into chasing the ideals of knighthood that she had idolized in Glenn.

Then even that had been cut to ribbons by Edelgard's war.

Now it was Felix and it was Ingrid. Not Felix-and-Ingrid, as it had been throughout the war. Just Felix and Ingrid. Felix, the broken and haunted monster. Ingrid, reborn as a soldier of the Empire.

He could recall with clarity the glow of Areadbhar and the Lance of Ruin through the rains at Tailtean. Could see in his mind's eye the looks of disappointment that Sylvain and Dimitri had worn upon seeing him. They hadn't wanted to fight him. He hadn't wanted to fight them, either but it wasn't as though he had much of a choice at that point.

He had been beyond redemption for years.

Sylvain had fallen with Felix's sword through chest and Ingrid's lance through his back. Dimitri had been beheaded by Edelgard after he had proven an unwillingness to die otherwise.

They had been defending Faerghus. So desperate they had been that so many of their soldiers, Dedue among them, had willingly turned themselves into Demonic Beasts. All to protect their nation.

Felix turned over the iron spur in his hand as he stood in the Sealed Forest. It had once been part of Glenn's armor as a knight. It was ridiculous to still be carrying it around, given that he had betrayed everything his brother had stood for. If Glenn were watching from the afterlife, he must have been disgusted with his brother.

It hadn't taken long to pack all his belongings. He didn't own much these days, after all. He'd even taken the Aegis Shield. Loathe as he was to handle the thing, he'd much rather have it with him than leave it for the Empire to use.

He wondered if Edelgard would send people out after him. Perhaps Ingrid would chase him down on her pegasus. Certainly, it would have been more difficult to escape through the front gates. If he went in this direction, he could keep traveling northwards. Pass through the Valley of Torment and from there...

He'd have to go east, into former Daphnel territory. It was the only option.

He re-pocketed the spur. Part of him wanted to toss it on the ground and leave it. He had no right to associate himself with Glenn's memory anymore. He couldn't, though. Couldn't bring himself to part ways with it.

_Always too sentimental._

If he were better able to detach himself from his past, would he be happier with his choices? Would he not feel the guilt he did for his father's death? For Sylvain's? Or Dimitri's? Would he have still cut himself off from Ingrid or would he still be able to tolerate being around her? Then again, it was that guilt that was the only thing giving him hope that he'd retained even a little of his humanity.

Not enough, though.

He readjusted his bags as he started walking away again. He'd need to see about maybe getting a horse once he was away from the garrison. If he were brave enough, he'd have tried stealing one of the horses from the stables. However, those were the property of the Imperial Army and he had no desire to run the risk of being arrested as a thief.

With his savings, he should be able to support himself for a while, even with the cost of a horse. That would give him enough time to start taking on jobs and earn more.

A meaningless existence, defined only by the edge of his sword and the blood he spilled.

Well, it wouldn't be different from the life he'd _been_ living. It'd just be under his own terms now.

He was nearly out of the forest when the sound of a horse started approaching from behind him. He briefly considered breaking into a sprint but he'd tire too easily with his bags weighing him down and would be quickly overtaken anyway. Instead, he stopped and turned, ready to verbally bite at whoever was approaching.

It was Bernadetta.

 _Of course,_ it would be Bernadetta.

“Felix! There you are!” she said once she brought her horse to a halt beside him. “I was worried I wouldn't catch up.”

“I'm not going back to the garrison,” he said.

She dismounted and stood herself right in front of him, lips pressed into a line. “You were just gonna leave without telling me?”

“I didn't want to give anyone a chance to try to prevent me from leaving. I don't doubt Edelgard's willingness to lock me in a cell if she thinks it's for my own good.”

“She wouldn't do that!”

He didn't respond to that. “So. You're not going to convince me to return. I'm telling you that now. Are you here to say goodbye?”

“I don't want to say goodbye! I want you to not leave me!”

“I'm not staying here! Not anymore!”

“Then... Then let's not stay here! Let's leave together!”

He paused. “You should just forget about me.”

“F-Forget about you?” She looked stunned. “How could you say that? I thought... I thought we promised that- that after the war, you and I would-”

“That was a different time.”

“It wasn't _that_ long ago!”

“It was long enough.”

“If you don't like me, then just say it!”

He should. It would be better to break her heart now, so she wouldn't be dragged down with him. It was the best course of action. Claim he didn't love her because he did.

So why couldn't he?

“Well?”

“... You wouldn't be happy with me. All I'm good for is ruining things. I just... destroy. Everything. I don't want to end up hurting you.”

“Why- Why do you think you'd hurt me?”

“Because it's the only thing I do. For some people, this war taught them to be a better person. For me, it just... I just wanted to get away from House Fraldarius. From Faerghus. Except now I have nowhere to go. I destroyed the only home I ever had, killed my father and people who I was friends with since childhood. I never even cared much for Edelgard's cause. I had no real purpose in spilling the blood that I did. In the end, for me, it was just bloodshed for the sake of bloodshed.”

“So...”

“So I'm leaving. The army. The garrison. The Empire, if I could, but I suppose all of Fodlan is now the Empire. I have to get away from here before I end up destroying the few good things I have left in life.”

“By abandoning them forever?”

“Abandoned but intact.”

“You don't know that! Maybe abandoning them _is_ destroying them! Maybe the way to stop yourself from hurting people is to stay by their side!”

He hated that she had a point. It was the fact that he abandoned Faerghus and his loved ones that led to everything he'd done. Therefore, it was his abandoning things that led to his destroying them.

“Bernadetta... Where _else_ am I supposed to go?”

“I'm going to take over Varley. Come with me.”

“... I have no desire to live in Enbarr.”

“Then we don't have to! There's no law saying we have to! We can live in the manor in Varley territory! And we'll only go Enbarr when we have to!”

Felix turned away, sinking to his knees. He should refuse. He should leave her alone forever and never talk to her again. He didn't want anything to do with the Empire but he'd tied his own noose by supporting them. The only way to escape the Empire's grip now would be to leave Fodlan entirely.

Bernadetta sat down beside him. “I-If you want to leave... then I can't stop you. I won't stop you. But I don't want you to leave. Knowing that you'd be out there every day... not knowing if you're injured or sick or well-fed or even _dying_...”

There was a lump caught in his throat. How many years had it been since he'd last shed tears? “I don't know if leaving is what I want. I don't know _what_ I want. I don't think I've ever known.”

Tears were pricking the corner of her eyes, too. “Then don't leave. If you still feel the way you did last year then come with me. We'll live by ourselves. Just the two of us.” She pulled a piece of fabric out of her pocket and handed it to him. “I was always intending to ask you, you know. You just tried to leave before I could.”

It was the handkerchief she'd been embroidering earlier. Blue and purple flowers filled one corner, around a stylized F. The damn thing was a gift for him. After all that he'd done, there were still people who inexplicably wanted _him_.

Despite himself, he felt a smile tug on the corner of his lips. Would there be some chance at happiness if he went with her? Would he ever know peace or at least be able to silence the horrific voices in his head?

He didn't know but damn if he didn't suddenly want to _try_.

* * *

**Harpstring Moon, 1173**

“By the Saints... what happened?”

At the sound of Glenn's rather annoyed voice, Felix looked up at his brother through watery eyes. Ingrid was leading the older boy by the hand to the yard of the royal palace, where they had been playing.

“I think I hit him too hard,” Dimitri said.

“It's his head,” Sylvain added, holding up one of the wooden training swords. At almost-thirteen, he was the oldest and, in many ways, most mature of the group. “Dima accidentally hit him on the head.”

Glenn rolled his eyes and knelt down to check the injury for himself.

“Hard for me to say how bad it is. If you're crying this much, then we should probably have a healer look at you.”

“I'm sorry...” Dimitri muttered, as his hands curled into fists around the hem of his shirt.

“At you least didn't break anything, Your Highness,” Glenn said. “You probably could have killed him, given your strength. You break swords just by swinging them too hard, after all...”

Dimitri turned bright red at the reminder. “B-But I didn't kill him...”

“Nope. Even if it is concussed, it's not likely to be a serious one. C'mon, crybaby. Let's get you to a healer.” Glenn wrapped his arms Felix, who immediately buried his head in his brother's shoulder.

“'m not a crybaby,” he muttered.

“You're crying right now.”

“My head hurts.”

“I know it does.”

The injury, thankfully, was not serious at all. Just a bump. Felix was just overreacting. Glenn didn't seem happy with this.

“You have to learn to stop crying over everything,” he said, arms crossed. The other three had been made to go wait for news outside since the healer's room was too crowded. “You're ten, not five.”

Felix, holding a cloth pack of ice to his head, stuck out his tongue. There were still tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes.

“Come on. You've been learning swordplay for six years and you still cry over a bump. If this had been an actual, serious injury, I could understand that. But _this?_ You can't spend your whole life following His Highness around like a lost puppy. Sooner or later, you have to learn to stand on your own two feet and you're not going to be able to do that if you start blubbering over every little thing.”

“You're mean.”

“I'm just saying... there are certain expectations on your shoulders. Well, I guess now the expectations are gonna change from what they originally were but the point is that you're a child of House Fraldarius.”

“So? You're the heir.”

“True. Unless something happens to me, you're not going to be expected to inherit the title of Duke.”

“Nothing would happen to you. You're too strong.”

“Trust me, I don't plan on dying. Regardless, even as a second son, you're still gonna have eyes on you. That's just how it is for people of our House. You're gonna have to learn to grow up at some point.”

“You sound like Father.”

“I'm just... Look, do you even have any idea what you want to make of your life? Certainly, you have a hell of a lot more freedom to choose than I do...”

“I wanna stay with Dima.”

“... You know, eventually, you're gonna be expected to call him by his title. At least in public. Regardless, what do you think you'd be doing, following him around like that? What is it that you want? To become a knight? To try to achieve rank in court on your own merits?”

“I don't know!” Felix was crying again, which prompted Glenn to roll his eyes. “I don't care! I just wanna stay with Dima!”

“You seem pretty insistent on that.”

“So? That's our job, isn't it? Stay by the royal family? So I'd just be doing what I'm supposed to.”

“True. House Fraldarius has always been loyal to House Blaiddyd. Regardless of what you do with your life, that much will at least be expected of you. But whatever it is you do, you have to learn to stop crying over everything.”

“... Are you done?” Felix sniffled.

“... Okay, yes, I'm done.”

Felix hopped off his chair, still holding the icepack to his head, and walked out the door to find his friends. Who cared about responsibilities? He had Dimitri and that was all that mattered to him.

* * *

**Verdant Rain Moon, 1186**

The manor was more open and airy compared to the cramped, dark castles of Faerghus but it showed the effects of five years of disuse. For the most part, not even servants had been around to maintain upkeep. Not since the former count's arrest.

The rooms had to be scrubbed thoroughly and aired out and the linens all washed. The red and gold decorations that had been favored by the former count were torn down and replaced with, after some deliberation, green and silver ones. All his favorite art pieces – the ones that hadn't been stolen by enterprising thieves taking advantage of the war- were sold off, too, except for an actual portrait of him.

Felix and Bernadetta took great joy in setting that one on fire and watching it burn.

The greenhouse became the home of many carnivorous plants. The garden, which was overgrown, had to be trimmed and tended to. The stables were cleaned out and horses moved in, including Bernadetta's own warhorse.

They had to adopt cats.

That wasn't in any way important to the restoration of the manor or Varley territory. They just both decided that cats were a necessity in life.

Being centered in the middle of the original Empire territory, Varley hadn't suffered the ravages of war nearly as much as other areas. It was for this reason that Edelgard thought Bernadetta would be a good person to turn to for assistance in general governance. After all, the newly-named Countess didn't have her work cut out for her nearly as much as other lords, so it would be easier for her to devote time to assisting the Emperor.

Felix just wished Edelgard would have sent a letter to ask about it, rather than showing up unannounced on her return to Enbarr.

“And here I thought you intended to run off to become a mercenary?” she said while Bernadetta was out of the room. “I'm surprised to find you here, instead.”

“Your presence makes me remember why I intended to do that.” He smiled coldly. “I'm not here because I want to make myself useful in any way to your bloodstained Empire. I'm here for Bernadetta.”

“And what you said before? About regretting leaving the Kingdom?”

“Still true. If I had a chance to turn back the clock and prevent my idiotic, teenager self from signing up for your army, I would. If that would guarantee that I instead consign myself to dying in service of the Kingdom, I would. That's not an option, though. The best I can hope to do is try to build something out of whatever I have left.”

“I don't see why you would have preferred to die against me.”

“... I seem to recall you asking me, five years ago, if I realized how many deaths this war would cause. That you would, directly or indirectly, cause much more than Dimitri. I justified it to myself by saying you don't relish in death. I just didn't want to confront the idea that I was making a huge mistake. I fought and killed so many people, family and friends included. In the end, it got me nothing. This world you dream of is a lofty goal and I hope you do manage to achieve it, so all the death you caused means something in the end. However, for me? Personally? It wasn't worth it in the least.”

“... You stopped referring to him by that nickname.”

“What? 'Boar?' Yeah. Calling him that implied I was in any way better than him. I'm not. I was just better at pretending that I didn't enjoy blood and death back then. On the battlefield, I don't have to think. It's a simple matter of proving my martial superiority over others. Like gambling. If you're skilled enough and have a bit of good luck, you can ruin others completely. The difference is that it's not money on the line. It's lives.”

“... I see.”

“The casualties of your war aren't limited to the dead. Some aren't going to be able to cope with things that they've done. Things that have happened to them. I'm sure I'm not the only person questioning if one woman's idea of a better world is really worth the last five years.”

“It will be.”

“I hope you're right about that.”

* * *

**Great Tree Moon, 1185**

Two days after the incident with the smoked meat, he knocked on Bernadetta's door.

“Bernadetta, are you in there?” he asked.

“Um... Hi, Felix,” was the muffled reply.

“You're not still freaking out over what you said the other day, are you?”

She opened the door and poked her head out. “I was being pretty stupid, wasn't I?”

“Kind of, yeah. That's not what I'm here for. I have something to talk to you about.”

“Oh, okay then.

“Are you gonna come out or... can I come in? Or should we just have the conversation like this?”

She opened the door wider but didn't step outside just yet. “What is it?”

“... So we're just gonna have the conversation like this?” he asked, gesturing to the doorway.

“Um...” She glanced into the room, then back at him. Silently, she grabbed her boots from beside the door and stepped outside. “Should we go somewhere more private or do you just want to talk out here?”

They ended up back at the cathedral, this time sitting on the bench in front of it. Felix had never been one to care much for visual aesthetics but even he had to admit that view of the mountain and the rest of the garrison below was beautiful. One of the cats jumped up to sit beside Bernadetta.

“So what did you want to talk about?” she asked as she scratched behind the cat's ears.

Felix didn't reply. Instead, he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small box, which he handed to her. She slowly took it and opened it, removing her hand from the cat in the process. The cat seemed displeased with this, walking across her lap to sit on Felix's.

“Felix, this is...”

Inside the box was a necklace. It was nothing extremely fancy, just being a simple silver chain with a charm. The charm itself was a small silver base with a purple stone – the same shade as her hair – inlaid in it, cut into a simple circle.

“As I said, I should have gotten you something for your birthday,” he replied, absentmindedly scratching under the purring cat's chin. “Consider it a... _very_ late present. I found it in one of the merchant's stalls.”

“You didn't have to spend money on me...”

“It's not like I'm using my money for much else. I've got every payment I get from the army saved up. I mean, all my basic necessities are covered so long as I'm here, so there's nothing much else for me to be buying.”

“I mean, it's still-”

“If you don't like it, just tell me outright.”

“No, I like it! I like it! It's just...” She blushed. “Well... Isn't this the sort of gift you'd get for, y'know, a... a lover?”

“Oh...” Honestly, the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “I mean, I didn't... I wasn't... thinking about that. I just thought... it might look good on you.”

“You're blushing,” she said, though her face was still red.

“No, I'm not.”

“You are! You're blushing!”

He looked away, trying to compose himself. “I- Are you going to try it on?”

“Oh! Uh...” She pulled it out of the box and unhooked the clasp. “Give me a hand?”

He obliged, closing the clasp behind her neck. Once it was on, Bernadetta glanced down at it, touching the charm lightly. “Um... does it look as good on me as you thought it would?”

“It does.” His hand lifted almost of its own accord. When he realized what he was doing and stopped, it was hovering halfway between them. “Um... Can I... I mean, would you mind if I...” He swallowed. “Can I touch you? Not, like, in a weird way. Just... in general.”

Her ears went pink. “Um... alright.”

With her consent, he slowly reached out and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Honestly, he had no clue what he was doing. He was just overcome with some strange kind of feeling when he looked at her like this.

“Your face is pretty close,” she said.

“Sorry.” He started to pull back, only for her to grab his wrist.

“I didn't say I didn't like it...”

They sat like that for several moments, with his hand in her hair and their faces hovering inches away from each other.

“Hey, Felix?”

“Yeah?”

“... We're not just friends, are we?”

“... No. I don't think we are.”

“Oh. If it's that the case...” She bit her lip. “Then can I kiss you? If it's weird, we just agree to forget about it and go back to how we were before. If it's not weird...”

He swallowed. “Alright then.”

It was a very clumsy first kiss. Neither of them really knew what they were doing. Their teeth knocked together a few times while they tried to angle their heads. Bernadetta kept trying to move closer and eventually ended up straddling his legs, keeping herself steady by bracing her hands on his shoulders.

When they finally pulled apart, both were flushed.

“I liked that,” Bernadetta said.

“Yeah... I did, too.”

“Probably could have chosen a better place to do it. If the wrong person saw us, we might get lectured.”

That was true. There was no time for such things when you were soldiers in a war.

“We probably shouldn't be doing this then...” he muttered.

“Yeah. I mean, this is the middle of a war and we shouldn't be worrying about romance right now but... maybe when the war's over?”

It seemed unlikely that the war would be ending at any point within the next few years, barring a sudden miracle. Nonetheless, he nodded.

“After the war. We can talk about it then.”

Bernadetta threw her arms around him in a hug.

“Then I hope the war ends soon.”

* * *

**Great Tree Moon, 1191**

It had been ten years since Felix abandoned his homeland. Seven since he was formally thrown out of House Fraldarius. Five years since he killed his father and two of his oldest friends. Four years since he married Bernadetta and became Felix von Varley.

He didn't show his face much in public or involve himself in politics. Just thinking of trying to step foot in the Imperial Court made him nauseous, even now. If he stayed in Varley territory and focused solely on the governance of the region, he didn't want to pull his hair out and run away into the wilderness.

It was Bernadetta that was the face of House Varley. It was better like that anyway, as she was the one who held the title. She was the one who made trips to Enbarr or even other corners of Fodlan entirely, leaving her husband to handle day-to-day tasks.

After some reluctance, Felix had started up a correspondence with Ingrid again. She had become a knight in direct service to Edelgard. While displeased with the fact that he hadn't spoken to her in months by the time he sent the first letter, she was overjoyed that he decided she was still worth keeping in his life. She became a not-uncommon visitor to the manor when she had free time. Still, they made a point never to discuss their opinions on the Emperor and only rarely discussed their childhood.

He had also sent a letter to Ashe, apologizing about the events of their last face-to-face interaction. Much to Felix's surprise, this had gotten a response. This began an infrequent correspondence in which Felix told Ashe all the boring details of running the Varley household and Ashe updated him on how things were going with Brigid's new order of Blue Sun Knights.

Dorothea invited him to the reopening of the Mittelfrank Opera Company. Her shows were the only thing that ever got him to come to Enbarr but he refused to go to the ones reenacting the events of the war. He had been given a profuse apology after she realized she had forgotten to warn him what the opera was about that first time. Ever since then, she always made sure he was informed about a show's contents when he was deciding whether or not to attend.

His marriage was relatively happy. His days were certainly brighter when Bernadetta was around than when she was off on business. She would practically throw herself off her horse and into his arms whenever she returned home, eager to show him all her new plant sketches and tell him about what she'd been up to.

They had no children as of yet and were still undecided on if they ever wanted any. There wasn't any pressure to pass on their Crests or provide heirs, so it was simply a matter of if they wanted kids. Bernadetta was open to the idea, even promising to travel less if they decided on it, but Felix was on the fence. He was, in his own opinion, too damaged to be a good father.

His nightmares were still fairly frequent, haunting him with the faces of those who'd died by his hand. Rodrigue. Dimitri. Sylvain. He re-lived those battles constantly. It seemed to him that he'd never forget their final words, ones of hatred and disappointment.

The Aegis Shield was kept under lock and key, gathering dust as he refused to let anyone make use of it. It was another reminder of his self-disgust. The idea of it being used in the act of yet more bloodshed or even of being made to look at it sickened him.

He knew it would be impossible for him to ever alleviate himself of the guilt he felt for what he had done. The last time he ever saw the Professor, he told them that he wished he could turn back the hands of the time and stop himself from ever transferring classes, as that was the start of his troubles. They had simply replied that no power left in Fodlan had the ability to do that, so there was nothing to be done but live with the result of his choices.

Felix wasn't going to heaven. He knew that all too well. Still, he supposed there was no reason to try to bring about his eternal punishment any sooner than necessary. No reason to throw his life away on the battlefield, even if part of him thought he should die a bloody death. Even when there were still moments when he itched to hold a sword and drive it through someone else's chest.

It was time to leave the war-making in the past. It wasn't a terribly exciting existence that he had now but at least it was one he was content with. As things were, that was all he needed.


End file.
